


Pertaining to Intimacy

by therev



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 05:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15834597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therev/pseuds/therev
Summary: Spock requests McCoy's assistance with something unexpected.





	Pertaining to Intimacy

**Author's Note:**

> I spent four months writing a 38k word AOS story. I guess I missed these old school nerds.

"Thank you for coming, Doctor," Spock said and stepped aside for McCoy to enter his quarters. A rush of warmer air met McCoy as he entered and the doors closed behind him. Not hot air, just a little warmer than the rest of the ship, which, even for his own taste, was rather cold.

To his great surprise he had been invited here after their shift, ostensibly to aid Spock with an experiment. Why they had not arranged to meet in the lab McCoy did not know and had not asked. Now, standing in the man's quarters in the warm air and low lights and Spock in his slacks and black undershirt and, he realized, barefooted, he wished he had asked why. He'd had this dream before. It had not included any sort of scientific study.

As if to make it all a little more surreal, Spock offered him a drink. McCoy accepted.

"How can I help, Mr. Spock?" he asked, standing awkwardly and sipping a tepid brandy, hoping to get down to business and back to reality where Spock did not invite him to his room for a nightcap.

Spock finished his own strange, orange-ish drink and sat it aside. He consulted a PADD on his desk. 

"I am conducting a series of experiments," he said in his usual sterile tone and McCoy felt a little easier, "which, I think, will better help me to understand the humans aboard, and indeed that part of myself. I wonder if you would help me?"

"Of course," McCoy said, and couldn't stop himself smiling, "glad to do it."

Spock came from around the desk, stood in front of him. "My interest is chiefly that of a social nature, specifically as it pertains to intimacy."

McCoy tried to hold the smile, then downed the rest of his brandy. He set the glass aside. "Is that so?"

"I have compiled a list of items and acts which I know to be related to the subject and I wish to satisfy my curiosity by performing them."

"And what would those be?"

"Chief among them is a kiss."

McCoy's throat tightened. Spock's face was still neutral, eyes even darker in the dim light, and he looked perfectly serious. 

"A kiss?" McCoy asked stupidly.

"I have never before shared the human peculiarity of touching lips to another's. I am told that it affects the mind and body in many ways. Would you assist me in experiencing this?"

"You… want to kiss me?"

Spock tilted his head as if McCoy had erred, but said, "And for you to do the same to me. Is that not how it works? I understood it to usually be a reciprocal act."

"No," McCoy swallowed thickly. "I mean, yeah. Yes. That's usually how it works. But wouldn't you rather have, I don't know, Christine, uh, assist you?"

Spock's brow creased. "Is Nurse Chapel an expert in the practice or is there another reason you believe she would be better suited to the task?"

"I--well I can't say, just, uhm--"

Spock leaned away, he placed his hands behind his back. "If you would not like to participate, Doctor, you need only say so."

There was something in the way that he said it… no, of course there wasn't, but who was McCoy to deny a man knowledge? True he was not entirely comfortable with the situation, all things considered. But there was no risk here but to himself. The only injury could be to his own heart and that had long ago grown so accustomed to the occasional bludgeoning that he knew well what it could handle.

"No, now wait," he said, and reached out to touch Spock's arm as he had begun to step away, then withdrew it just as quickly. "Yes. Yes, of course I'll help, Spock. It's just… I'm being foolish as usual. It's just that normally there's, well, some emotions involved that… but I guess that's not important to… to a Vulcan."

Spock blinked. If McCoy's comment bothered him he did not show it. 

"Thank you, Doctor," he said, and stepped closer. "You will, I presume, understand if I ask you to guide me, as you have the greater experience."

McCoy swallowed again, licked his lips. "I'm not sure that's true in this case exactly, but of course…" He took a step closer and his heart began to beat rapidly. He took a breath, thought of something and laughed softly. "I wish I'd brought a mint or something."

Spock raised a brow. "Are herbs a typical accoutrement for adequate performance?"

"No, just," McCoy waved the comment away, glad at least to have some humor to lighten the mood. "Nevermind." He looked up. Spock's eyes were almost black so near, and yet still too far. "You'll have to bend down a little," he said, and Spock did. Oh lord, McCoy thought, but only said, "That's fine." He took another ragged breath and leaned in quickly, like ripping off a bandage. Just a swift, soft brush of lips, a hairsbreadth of contact, a fraction of a second.

He took a full step back and a deep breath. The room was suddenly brighter. He rocked on his heels, rather proud to have survived it. He smiled. 

Spock straightened, and did not look particularly satisfied.

McCoy stopped smiling. "Is that not what you expected, Mr. Spock?"

Spock worked his jaw minutely, touched his lips with the tips of his long, elegant fingers, considering.

"Maybe," McCoy suggested, trying not to sound too disappointed, "maybe some emotional connection would… facilitate… something for you that I cannot provide."

Spock frowned, replaced his hand behind his back. "I do not think your suggestion applies in my case, Doctor."

"Of course you don't," McCoy said sharply.

"What I mean is that I don't think you performed the act correctly."

"Oh no?" 

"The application of your lips seemed abbreviated, and is there not typically other contact which is initiated concurrent to the kiss to provide additional stimulus, connection?"

McCoy nearly took a step back. "You mean, like pressing bodies, that sort of thing?"

Spock nodded, brows raised. "Hand-holding, I believe, is another."

"Aren't Vulcan hands very sensitive?" McCoy asked.

"They are," Spock said.

"And you would like… " McCoy stopped himself, amended his statement, "you request that I hold yours and, to, uhm, be close to you?"

"If it is not disagreeable to you, Doctor. I do think it is important that I have the entire experience if I am to fully appreciate the exercise."

McCoy rubbed his chin absently. "Yes, I guess it is," he said. Then had a thought. "You're not going to read my mind, are you?"

"Only if you want me to."

"No," he said quickly. "No, that's alright. Better not." He raised his left hand and Spock took it, palm dry and cool as their fingers intertwined. Then McCoy reached up his other hand to Spock's neck and hesitated. "I'm going to have to... I mean, to do it right."

"Of course," Spock said, and did not even blink, dark eyes watching so closely when McCoy lay a hand on the back of his neck, just brushing the soft hairline. In answer, Spock put a hand on his waist, pulled him closer. He smelled like incense and warm skin.

"Is this suitable?" he asked.

McCoy swallowed. "Yes," he said and his voice broke a little so he cleared his throat and added, "it is, perfectly correct, Mr. Spock."

Spock, McCoy thought, smiled. Or maybe he imagined it. They were very close now and his near vision was not what it used to be. 

"I am ready when you are, Doctor," Spock said, his voice rumbling in his chest. He bent his head again and McCoy could hear him breathing, the warm air tickling his cheek. McCoy turned his head, met those lips again with his own.

It was at first simply a longer, more intimate version of the first, then McCoy thought to himself 'the hell with it' and flexed his fingers in Spock's hair, parted his lips, and licked Spock's mouth open. Spock let him, pulled him closer, squeezed the hand that he held and pushed forward his hips to meet McCoy's and made a sound McCoy had never heard in his long life, a thirsty sound, a hungry sound, not a whine or cry nor even a moan, and when it had finished McCoy was not sure that he had even heard it but merely felt it, utter, complete satiation.

The kiss ended and McCoy leaned his head back. Spock did not release him.

"Thank you, Doctor," Spock said, and took only a breath before he bent again and this time the kiss was deeper, more desperate, and McCoy now had both hands in Spock's hair and both of Spock's were on his backside, pulling him so close that McCoy was panting, holding back a moan that he thought would give him away. 

But why did it matter now? With Spock's mouth hot on his throat, with Spock's hand inching up past his science tunic to lay bare and hot on his skin.

"Spock," he said, breathless against Spock's ear.

What did he have to hide now?

"Spock," he said again.

Was it not now Spock who'd shown his hand?

"Spock?" he said, and pushed him away. Spock's face was flushed pink and green, his lips full and red and his eyes heavy and dark.

McCoy frowned. "You devil!" he shouted in a whisper. "You tricked me."

This time Spock did smile. He breathed the barest hint of a laugh and he did not let go of McCoy.

"I was at all times truthful, Doctor. If one of us has not been honest, perhaps it was not me."

"This was no experiment! You--you knew I… and you wanted to…" What? He still wasn't entirely sure.

Spock straightened, pulled McCoy's body flush once again against his own. McCoy let him.

"I did not know," Spock said, "that you desired me for certain, but I did suspect. You are not particularly efficient at disguising your emotions. In that sense it was an experiment." He touched McCoy's temple, his cheek, and McCoy couldn't help himself. He leaned into it. "But you are correct. I wanted--I want you, Doctor."

"Leonard," McCoy said. "No patient or colleague has ever kissed me like that."

"Leonard," Spock said, and leaned down to kiss him again.

"So what else was on that list of yours?" McCoy asked after a while, when they were no longer standing, and had not been for some time.

"The list was fictional," Spock said. "However, I believe we can make one as we go along."

"Well I've already got one a mile long," McCoy promised. "I've had years to compile it."

"So long?" Spock asked, seeming surprised. "I did not realize."

"Not so bad at disguising my emotions, then," McCoy said, and pressed his face into the curve of Spock's neck.

"I hope that you shall no longer find a need to hone the skill," Spock said gently, and held him tighter.

McCoy laughed, his voice quiet, sleepy, and muffled against Spock's skin. "What a strange day. I kissed a Vulcan, and now he's encouraging me to emote more often."

"Where myself and our intimacy is involved, yes."

"Our intimacy," McCoy said with a smile and fell asleep.


End file.
